


Surprises

by xxx_cat_xxx



Series: Whumping Peter Parker [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Stitches, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony and all of his kids, Vomiting, Whump, but like funny whump, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 02:32:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19432096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxx_cat_xxx/pseuds/xxx_cat_xxx
Summary: “What happened, kid?” Tony asks, stunned. Peter is pressing a rag against a wound on his ribcage, which seems to be the main source for the blood, but it’s all over his body, some drops have even made it to his hair. “I thought you went to sleep, not crime fighting!”-or-All Tony wanted was a peaceful night to work on Peter's birthday gift. But his kids make sure that this doesn't happen.





	Surprises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whumphoarder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumphoarder/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for the wonderful Bethany. It is set in my favourite alternative universe where everyone’s alive after Endgame and staying together at the reconstructed Avengers compound. 
> 
> Major thanks to [Sally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sally0/pseuds/Sally0) for beta reading.

It’s 2am on a Friday night and Tony is sitting his lab, working on the solar-powered spider car he is planning to give Peter for his birthday. 

The gift had technically been ready a week ago, but then Morgan broke into the lab and spent a happy afternoon using various spray paints to add a personal touch to the vehicle - a cute gesture, but Tony doubts whether Peter would want a car with a five-year old’s “golden glitter spiders” painted all over it. Tony came down to the workshop hours ago - originally only in order to clean the mess, but then he got the sudden inspiration of adding a pizza slice holder to the passenger door, and after that his ideas only kept multiplying, and who needs sleep anyway?

He’s currently bent over his StarkPad, completely immersed in updating the safety system once again, when something pokes him in the shoulder.

“Oh yeah, coffee sounds great,” Tony mutters and turns around, fully expecting to see his self-propelled cup holder hovering next to him with his hourly dose of caffeine. 

Instead, his gaze falls onto a very bloody kid. 

“What on earth?” Tony exclaims. With a quick gesture, he orders DUM-E to pull a cover over the car on the other side of the lab, hoping that Peter hasn’t taken notice. 

“Uhm, Mr. Stark, I can explain…” Peter mumbles. 

“What happened, kid?” Tony asks, stunned. Peter is pressing a rag against a wound on his ribcage, which seems to be the main source for the blood, but it’s all over his body, some drops have even made it to his hair. “I thought you went to sleep, not crime fighting!”

“No, this wasn’t a criminal - it was Black Widow’s knives,” Peter admits sheepishly.

“What?” Tony frowns. “Nat’s not even in the country!”

“No, no, not Natasha - I got cut by the knives in her cabinet-”

“You opened Natasha’s cabinet? Are you mad?”

“No, Mr. Stark, just listen, please! Cassie and I had a bet that I couldn’t do a triple backflip without touching the ground, but Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes were wrestling in the gym, so I went to practise in the attic. I got distracted by watching Falcon fly upside down in front of the window... and then I crashed into the cabinet,” he spills without taking a breath in between.

“You...What?” There are so many things wrong with Peter’s explanation that Tony’s doesn’t even know where to start. It definitely seems like a nanny would be a good idea for most of the compound’s inhabitants.

“Uhm…” Peter interrupts, suddenly swaying a little. “I think I should sit down…”

“Shit.” Tony feels his chest goes tight in worry - the lecture can wait for later. He pushes Peter down onto the lab stool. “Okay, let me see.” 

Tony unceremoniously pulls up the boy’s t-shirt and raises his eyebrows at the mess. There are a number of cuts all over his torso, but the most worrying one is an approximately 5-inch slash on his rib cage. “Yeah, this definitely needs stitches,” he assesses.

Peter bites his lip. “I’m sure the spider healing will take care -”

“You know yourself that it won’t, or you wouldn’t have come to me. Come on, let’s move you over there.” Tony wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulders and supports him to the sofa in the corner of the lab. “Lie down, kid. I’ll fix you up.”

“Are you sure you can do this?” Peter asks doubtfully. “No offence, just, you’re not exactly a doctor…” The kids eyes glance at Tony’s left hand, which is trembling a little like usual. 

“Well…” Tony lifts his right arm dramatically, and a needle extends from his index finger. “The perks of being able to design your own prosthetic arm. I got it patented, it’s fully approved to perform simple medical operations.” 

“Wow!” For a moment, Peter seems to have all but forgotten about his injury. “That’s amazing.”

“Amazing is my middle name.” 

(Tony doesn’t mention that the main reason for incorporating the feature is that it provides him with an easy way to avoid consulting medical about his own frequent work injuries.)

“What else do you have in there?” Peter asks, eyes gleaming.

“Anything and everything you can imagine. Sometimes I wish I had thought of something like that earlier, the self-cleaning function would have come in handy while changing Morgan’s diapers…”

Peter chuckles. But when Tony dabs Lidocaine on the wound and goes on to insert a surgical thread into the eye of the needle, he presses his lips together, his face paling.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“Nothing.” The boy’s voice is shaking a little.

“Sure, Pinocchio.”

“I just - I don’t really like needles,” Peter admits, biting his lip and eyeing the device nervously.

“Oh, kid.” Tony feels for him, but he can’t help but add, “On the plus side, at least I don’t have to worry about you getting an _I love Justin Bieber_ tattoo on your bicep.”

“Justin Bieber? How old are you?” Peter exclaims in honest shock.

Tony gives him a stern look. “Watch it, boy.” 

Tony hears Peter’s breath quicken when he bends over the boy and pierces his skin with the needle. “So, tell me about that physicist you never shut up about, what’s his name? Saran Wrap Twigson?” 

“Søren Thygesen!” Peter corrects indignantly. “You totally know his name.”

“What’s his newest discovery?”

“You’re just trying to distract me,” Peter points out. He flinches when Tony places the next stitch.

“Never, kid,” Tony says in fake earnestness. “So, Søren Thygesen. He plays the, what was it, saxophone? Bagpipe?”

“Didgeridoo,” Peter grumbles. “He even won a national competition in Denmark, it’s all on YouTube.”

“What did he have to say about NASA’s newest Mars mission?”

When Peter doesn’t respond, Tony glances up between the careful movements of his fingers. The kid’s face has taken on a slightly dazed look and he is swallowing thickly. 

“Don’t puke on me,” Tony warns.

“Huh?” 

“I know that look from Morgan. That’s the _I’m going to barf in the next five minutes_ face.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Peter swallows once more. It’s more like a gulp this time. He glances down at the needle. “Okay, maybe I’m feeling a _little_ queasy.” 

“Uhm.” Tony warily eyes the trash can on the other side of the room, then looks down at his handiwork. “Just hold it for another minute, okay? Two more stitches.”

Peter nods and squeezes his eyes shut. His face has taken on an ashen tint and there is sweat running down his temples. 

Tony finishes the stitches as quickly as possible. “Done,” he sighs with relief. The nanotech of his small finger retracts to reveal a scissor. “Just let me cut-”

“Daddy?” 

Morgan is standing in the door frame, all messy bedhead with a Spider-Man plush toy in her arms. She looks from the blood-covered t-shirt on the ground and the surgery equipment poking out from Tony’s prosthetic hand to the gash on Peter’s chest, and promptly bursts into tears. 

“Hey bud, don’t worry,” Peter mumbles. He struggles to sit up a little straighter and tries for a reassuring smile which quickly morphs into a pained grimace. “I’m fine.” 

Then, without further warning, he leans forward and throws up all over Tony’s pants.

*

Five years of parenting have done wonders for Tony’s patience, but after calming down one puking and one crying kid, changing everyone’s clothes, getting the bots to clean up the lab and settling Morgan back to sleep (and reassuring her about 3000 times that Peter will indeed be fine), he is pretty much at the end of his nerves. 

When he returns to the lab, Peter is waiting on the couch where Tony has left him with a bottle of gatorade and strict orders not to move from there before the end of the night. 

“How’re you holding up?” Tony asks, hoping his tone doesn’t betray his own exhaustion.

“Okay, I guess.” Peter is still pale, but not looking in any immediate danger of being sick or passing out, so Tony counts that as a win.

“Let me see.” The engineer lifts the gauze the kid was pressing against his ribcage. The stitches are neat and regular, and Tony mentally congratulates himself for his precision work. Maybe he’s imagining it, but it looks like the edges of the wound are already starting to grow back together. “I’ll bandage this and then you can go to sleep. You’re staying home tomorrow, and no acrobatics for at least a week.”

“But Mr. Stark, what about the backflip? I bet Cassie for the clip of her dad and Mr. Barton performing _Umbrella_ at the New Year’s party!” 

“Will you stop, please?” Tony growls. “My lecture on responsible behaviour will follow in the morning, once I’m properly awake. But don’t dare to even think about doing anything like that in the attic again.” 

“On second thought…” Peter smiles cheekily, “I kinda _did_ manage the triple backflip before I hit the cabinet, so if I could just get a hand on the security camera feed and show them to Cassie…?” 

Tony sighs. “FRIDAY?” 

“The footage has been sent to Mr. Parker’s email account, Boss.”

“Thanks. Now, on to the _important_ issues…” Tony starts to dress the stitches on Peter’s chest as well as the smaller wounds. Peter stays quiet, but he can’t suppress a wince when the disinfect burns in the cuts.

“Do you want a painkiller?” Tony asks. “Actually, scratch that, I’m ordering you to have one. Dum-E?” 

The robot whirs off obediently to retrieve one of the Super Duper Painkillers Bruce and Tony cooked up for Peter’s enhanced metabolism. 

Meanwhile, Tony finishes the dressing. “That’s done, but no hasty movements with this, you gotta promise-”

There’s a clatter from behind, and then Tony hears Peter suck in a gulp of air through his teeth.

“What?” Tony turns around and sees, to his horror, that Dum-E managed to get entangled in the sheet covering the car and pulled it down completely, revealing the present to Peter.

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers. “Is that for me…?”

“No, I’m designing a red-and-blue cobwebbed-themed car for Hawkeye,” Tony snorts. “You were not supposed to see that. Great work, Dummy.” The robot whirs apologetically. “Yeah, yeah, that’s not gonna help you.”

“A car…oh my god...” Peter’s face is an adorable mixture of shock, surprise, gratitude and awe. 

“It’s not just _any_ car,” Tony clarifies, then stops himself before he can give away the special features - spider legs to take over in dangerous terrain, or the swimming ability, or the wings, oh yeah, the wings... The mechanic has still got some surprises up his sleeve.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark, thank you so much! That’s amazing, that’s, that’s -” the kid is clearly lost for words. He looks at Tony with a huge grin and tears in his puppy eyes that have nothing to do with the pain from his injuries, and the engineer can feel his heart go warm. 

“No big deal,” he dismisses. “Now, take your painkiller and then move over.” 

He fetches the pills from Dum-E and shakes one into Peter’s hand, who swallows it obediently and then shifts on the couch to make space for his mentor. 

Tony groans when he drops into the cushions. He watches as Peter curls up on the other end of the couch. The boy’s eyelids are already drooping, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him. Gratefully, he notices that the pain is slowly dissipating from the kid’s features.

Tony is feeling more wiped out than he usually does after a week-long workshop binge. Kids are a plague. But, he realises with a smile when Peter falls asleep with his arms wrapped around Tony’s legs, they’re worth every second of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I stole the [flying saucer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565423/chapters/44007139),   
> [Søren Thygesen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935991/chapters/42354371), and the [Super Duper Painkiller](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167391/chapters/45559333) from whumphoarder’s and [@awesomesockes](https://tmblr.co/mwMDeL7QNVwfqlALKAMrarQ)’s wonderful fic universe.  
> Comments are always appreciated. For more Irondad stuff, find me on [tumblr.](https://xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com/)


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